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#im very tired. might
gammija · 8 months
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At a Wayne family dinner
DICK: You don't have to hide your powers here
Danny: I'm not trying to hide them, I'm trying to control them
Duke: Wait, I thought you got intangibility two years ago?
Danny: Yeah. It was a lot worse back then. High school is bad enough without your clothes falling off
Tim: *spits out his drink*
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obsob · 1 year
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big man...why is he so big...(hes full of love)
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ftmwarewolves · 3 months
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So what's up with the hatred for binary trans men within the queer community? Even within the trans masculine community as a whole, what is with the cruelty?
Why is it that when a trans femme spoke to me about other trans men in her life, she turned around and used "thats so binary" as an insult towards them, as if she wasn't talking to a binary trans person. Not that it's the worst thing in the world, but it raises questions. At least to me.
What is with that? Why is it wrong for binary trans men to be men? It's not wrong for trans mascs to be masc, so what is the deal with being a man? Does it still really just boil down to simply being a man?
Do you internally think we are "gender traitors" still?
Bc that's what it seems like to me. You can be whatever you are, as long as it isn't a binary trans man.
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crybaby-bkg · 1 year
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Bakugou who makes it a habit of FaceTiming you out of the blue because he’s horny. Your friend group and his own have had to bear witness entirely too many times to answering the phone and he’s exposed somehow—they always just wanna say hi, ask him how his recent mission is going. They learn after enough times, that when he FaceTimes you out of the blue, to steer clear of your phone until you give them the okay. there’s just been too many times with you answering and then screaming to the top of your lungs as you clutch the phone to your chest and tell him that there are people around.
but does that stop him? of course not, the little whore. he’ll call you after he’s gotten out the shower, so his body is still wet and glistening. he’ll call you while he’s away in some other country, with his dick in the camera and a pout on his lips because he misses your stupid face. he’ll call when he’s this close to orgasming, because seeing you will always push him over the edge.
he calls you one day while you’re working at home, typing away at your computer, your phone propped up beside you. you answer without looking at him, smiling, asking how everything’s going so far and it’s not until you look up, when you gasp.
“Katsuki!” You yell, a little giggle tearing through your words in surprise. “What if someone was around? Again?” You ask him, but it’s hard to remember why you’re this upset when he looks so pretty in front of you. He grunts, still jerking his cock as he sits on the edge of the bed, his phone propped up on what you believe a nightstand, as you can see the way his stomach curls in from how raggedly he breathed.
“You’re alone, right?” He asks in a huff, eyebrows screwing up as he takes in your wide eyes and slightly gaping mouth as you stare at his form. You nod absentmindedly, already feeling your inner thighs starting to get slick, shifting a little in your seat.
“Show me a tit, or something. I miss you.” Bakugou mutters, eyebrows pinched as he twists his wrist over his tip before he slides back down his shaft.
“When don’t you wanna see my tits?” You tease him, but oblige, lifting your shirt, eyes rolling slightly at the downright filthy noise that leaves his mouth at the sight. You don’t even have to play with them, just sit them on display and he’s already so quick to burst all over himself.
You take it a step further though, pushing back in your chair until he can see most of your body where you sit, slipping out of your bottoms and underwear until you’re on display for him. You put your knees to your chest before settling back, thighs on either side of the arms as you spread yourself, smiling at him all the while.
“So fuckin’—shit!” He sounds damn near strangled as he cums all over himself, eyes squeezed shut as he jerks at his cock. you can’t help but laugh when you hear the crackling of his quirk going off, watch how the sheets beside him char and start to smoke in his intensity. He’s always so easy, you think to yourself with a little laugh as you began to get dressed, and you love it.
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nonranghaes · 9 months
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heads up: reader struggling w friendships (feeling uninvolved + unheard)
felix hears the way you sigh as you come back into the room, and doesn't move quite yet. he knows you well enough. he listens as your footsteps draw nearer, and you pass in front of him as quickly as you can before throwing yourself onto the opposite end of the couch. it's enough to make him raise a brow--usually you'll sit next to him because you like being close to him--but he can't take his eyes off the tv screen quite yet.
"everything okay?" he says as he pulls one side of his headset back, and then he already hears changbin and jisung responding. "not--not you guys. hold on, i'll still be here--" he mutes his mic, and looks over to you. "babe?"
you curl in on yourself, frowning. "not really."
"you wanna talk about it?"
"you're busy--"
he shoves his headset down so it hangs around his neck. "i can multitask. once we're done with this, i'll stop, alright?"
you pout and he sees it from the corner of his eye. "i don't want to bother you."
"you aren't," he promises. "i'm listening."
"it's just... more of the same-old." you shift so you're a little closer to him. "feeling like some of my friends are closer with each other so i'm just kind of playing fifth wheel, platonically. other friends not listening to me when i speak meanwhile i feel like i file every little fact away..."
he's heard it before. he looks up, and he sees how upset you are, and he debates for a moment. he's going to play again with changbin and jisung this weekend... surely they can carry on without him? he pulls up his headset, unmutes, and says he's gotta go. all it takes is him mentioning your name for them to stop teasing him: felix wouldn't be ditching them if it weren't somewhat serious. he logs back out, and turns over, moving in to wrap his arms around you.
"hey." he smiles. "i love you. you wanna go out?" he says. "we can get dinner. talk more. maybe walk by the river?"
he knows you well: getting out helps. and walking by the river always helps you open up more. you peck his lips as you get up to find your shoes.
at least felix has your back when you need it the most.
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dizzybizz · 9 months
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y'know when you start drawing something as a joke but then it gets out of hand real quick and you just kinda let it- yeah...
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esuooh · 1 year
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how to start your own blood-thirsty cult 101:
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nanistar · 1 year
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hi. fight club au where hawkfrost is tyler and brambleclaw is the narrator. the fight club is the dark forest. it works. if you need convincing watch the chemical burn scene and imagine them.
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sad-leon · 10 months
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Actually, Y'all can see these as well
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Based off @/xinrouska's dtiys on Instagram (i dont know if they're chill being tagged over here)
I am obsessed with their villain Leo (and artstyle in general) and am going slightly feral for it lol
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cringesnail · 8 months
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I'm too tired to scroll the tag to see if someone already talked about it so I will.
Here are the (non-rp) reasons Baghera gave for why she didn't interact with Forever as much as in the beginning:
- People saw them as a duo almost immediately and it stresses her out, she was afraid that people would expect them to do everything together
- At some point (not anymore) she decided to distance herself from some people with a big fanbase because of the harassment she faced at the beginning
- For the last few months, they've both spend a lot of time building alone so they didn't see each other
- They're not necessarily on the server at the same time (not sure what she meant? They're often there at the same time)
- She goes to see different people for different reasons
- People focus on the fact that they don't spend as much time together as before but they still do spend time together
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r0semultiverse · 8 months
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well, this all looks rather familiar...
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quinn-pop · 8 months
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true love is when you get to be a little bit silly together
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brambletakato · 2 months
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fun fact: evil city's daily des doodles is almost close to the amount of frames there is in desmond's puzzle solved animation. only 41 more to go!
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howlonomy · 2 months
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A somewhat heavy question, but if Clover was the only one to come back how do they feel about that? More importantly how do they feel about Asgore? I'd imagine that they of all people want Asgore to answer for the others (especially given the likelihood that they... didn't give their SOULS willingly ( on that note how is Asgore not in prison))
survivors guilt baby!!!! of course they’re happy to be back (they didn’t really want to die in the first place, no matter how many times they said they wanted to) but they cant help but feel bad for the previous fallen kids. the whole reason they went down there was to save them, and clover was the only one that could come back. its not like it’s they’re fault, they didnt KNOW or ASK to come back, but they just cant help feeling guilty.
they’ll always feel a little bitter that asgore didnt get any repercussions for what he did. they could never interact with asgore without remembering. i think if they had a long, solid conversation, clover could understand asgore a bit more, but they would definitely think asgore a coward for everything.
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milf-harrington · 10 months
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For the made-up fic title prompt:
"Just another normal doomsday"
Just Another Normal Doomsday
Hawkins, 1987.
"I'm just saying, punk rock gay sex is different to hippy gay sex."
"How?"
Robin shrugged, stirring her straw through her milkshake before lifting the whole cup to her mouth to drink it. "It's sexier."
She was sitting with her legs crossed underneath her, back leaning against the bus window so she could face where he was sitting across the aisle. The bus was pleasantly dim, but watery sunlight streamed through a gap on her side and bathed her face in blue shadows while her hair lit up with bronze at the ends.
Steve snorted, leaning sideways with one leg stretched over the aisle, muddy sneaker propped up on the edge of Robin's bench. A cardboard tray filled with chips was nestled in his lap, the corners darkened with grease and grainy with salt.
"You're just saying that because your parents are hippies."
From Steve's backpack, their walkie (one they shared, with masking tape scribbled over in colourful markers stuck to the back, their names written in each others handwriting) crackled to life, codes carried out in a cloud of static that made them both sigh in unison.
Robin burped, dropping her empty milkshake cup back into the bag their food had come in. "No," She protested, milk lining her upper lip before she wiped it away. "I'm saying it because it's true."
"They're both gay!"
"But being punk rock is gayer!"
He flicked a chip crumb at her when she reached for her bag, watching it dodge her flailing attempts at a block and get stuck in her hair. "I'm telling Eddie you called him gay."
She blinked at him, face scrunched up in the same expression she used to give him whenever he opened his mouth at Scoops. "Eddie is gay, and I'm telling him that you called him punk rock-"
Something outside shrieked, high and rattling like broken glass against a sheet of metal. They shared a look like the ones they used to share at Family Video, when customers were being unreasonable and they couldn't say anything about it or they'd get fired.
Steve leaned down to grab his bat from the floor, wiping the grease off of his hands onto his jeans as Robin stood and stretched. There was still a deep purple bruise tucked into the inner corner of her eye from a demo-bat attack on patrol a few days ago, and Steve felt the matching one on his shoulder twinge when he hauled the nail-bat over it.
"He won't do anything," He told her, stepping in front to take the lead as they moved towards the front of the bus. The windows were still sloppily boarded up from a night that felt like a hundred years ago, just Steve and a bunch of kids who were in over their head. "I call him punk all the time, I think he's grown immune to it."
They stopped at the door, Robin squeezing past to stand on the other side, where the controls were. They stayed quiet, peering through the dirty glass to get a grasp of the how many and where. Dustin's code said three, but they'd been wrong before.
"Yeah, but if he hears you've been spreading that around?" Robin whispered, reaching behind her to wrap bandaged fingers around the lever. She whistled low, mostly breath, and Steve rolled his eyes. "You won't have to worry about demodogs, is all I'm saying."
"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, tightening his grip on the bat as the door shuttered open and a gust of warm air hit his face.
He crept outside, second-hand work boots crunching lightly on the gravel as he listened to Robin hurry up the ladder to the roof. She was going to yell directions and throw molotov cocktails while he did the actual hard shit. Technically the lookout part was supposed to be Eddie's job, and Robin was meant to be at Steve's back with her axe, but apparently they were at a crucial stage of the campaign and he "couldn't miss it".
Part of Steve hoped he'd get eaten, if only to get his boyfriend to reorganise his priorities a bit.
A half hour later, Steve leaned against the side of the bus, sweaty and panting while Robin offered him her water-bottle. She reeked of cheap alcohol and the sharp smell of burning, glittering shards of glass caught in her fringe. Gore dripped from the nails in his bat, and one of the dogs had gotten a good swipe at his shin, but he remained mostly un-grievously-injured. He still hurt everywhere though, body complaining about all the diving over and around and behind random bits of junk and machinery.
"Metal gay sex is probably gayer than punk rock gay sex." He decided, and Robin hummed thoughtfully.
"You'd know."
He shrugged, tilting his head with an ehh. "I've never slept with a punk so I can't be sure, but you've met Eddie."
"I have indeed. Speaking of- are we having dinner at Wayne's tonight?"
Steve groaned - not in complaint, it's just that his everything hurt and he'd forgotten about their dinner plans - and ran a hand through his hair. It was greasy and damp with sweat and monster blood. Overhead, a flock of demobats shrieked and weaved among each other, not bothering with the two of them as they headed off towards the quarry.
"Yeah, I said we'd pick up mince for that chuck-in he makes, but that was before the butcher got eaten this morning and I don't think Melvald's is open today."
Robin sighed, scooping up her bag and shrugging it over her shoulder. She held out a hand, fingers spread and wiggling expectantly, and he grinned as he clasped their hands together.
The headed off towards the tracks, a short-cut to the trailer park, and swung their hands back and forth between them.
"I could make that pasta my mum taught me?" Robin offered. "Pretty sure the Munson's will have all of that."
He groaned, this time in delight, and swung their hands a bit higher like a kid on the swings excited to touch the clouds. "God yes, please."
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